


Butterfly Lullaby

by gorillas_infinity



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Chloe is dead, Depression, Drinking, F/F, Hangover, Longing, Lots of drinking, Max still has powers, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV First Person, POV Max, Post-Canon, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, Regret, Sad, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love, Victoria is nice, very slight canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorillas_infinity/pseuds/gorillas_infinity
Summary: This is what she wanted. This was the right thing to do. Right? Then why doesn't anything feel right anymore?





	Butterfly Lullaby

My legs carry me up the hill. I know it's only a few hundred feet to the top of the gentle slope. But for all the more I want to be here it might as well be Mount Everest. Every part of my brain screams at me to run. To hide. To leave and never look back. If I never see it, it can't be real. Right?

  
My body won't listen. Each step is agony. The muddled voices around me fall away as a black figure comes into view over the crest of the hill. Joyce. I want to run away. But my legs keep moving forward. I want to tell her I'm sorry. But how can I? "I'm sorry I let your daughter die even though I can rewind time?"

  
Each step up the hill brings more into view. Joyce. David. Flowers. The casket. For the first time my legs stop. My heart plummets into my chest as my eyes lay on that cold brown box. A hand pats my shoulder. Another takes my hand. Warren. Kate.

  
At the top of the slope we all take our places around the casket. It's like some perverted stage show. A farce. The preacher arrives and I can't stop thinking about how much he looks like Larry David. I keep expecting the casket to pop open and Chloe will sit up as the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme plays. But it doesn't.

  
Preacher Larry David says his piece. Afterwards he puts a hand on Joyce's shoulder and offers his condolences before leaving. Warren and Kate tell me they'll be waiting at the car. To take as much time as I need. If only that much time existed.

  
The casket begins to lower into the ground. David holds Joyce upright as she cries, her body threatening to buckle. Tears burn my own cheeks as a shrill "Awoo" cuts the sound of sobs. I turn my head just in time to see Frank Bowers duck down behind another headstone, pulling Pompidou behind him. Joyce and David don't seem to notice them.

  
I stare at the headstone. My eyes trace the freshly carved letters spelling out Chloe Elizabeth Price, mere inches away from the words reading William Price. This isn't fair. This isn't right. No mother should have to bury her daughter. Why couldn't I fix anything? What good were my powers if I couldn't use them to save the people I love? Why was I so useless?

  
Suddenly I feel engulfed by a hug. Joyce still smells the same. She holds me tight, trying to comfort me. Telling me I'm going to be okay. At her own daughter's funeral. I feel horrible. I sicken myself. After a long while she lets go, telling me I should stop by the house some time and see if there's anything of Chloe's I want to keep.

  
Then I wake up. I stare up at the ceiling before I remember. How could I ever forget? It's barely been two weeks. Two weeks since my partner in time ran out of time. Two weeks since I spoke to Joyce. Two weeks since I left the dorms.

  
I can hear them whispering. Why hasn't Max left her room? Why hasn't Max been back to class yet? Why is she so mopey? Did she even know that girl? I hear it all. Every time I go to the bathroom. Every time I visit Kate or Warren visits me. They’ll never understand what we had. What we were to each other. What we gave up. And I can never tell them.

 

I roll over and grab my teddy bear, trying to go back to sleep. I can’t. I never can. I know this, but I try anyway until I get fed up enough to roll out of bed. I walk to the shower room to wash my face. The girls leaving whisper as I walk by. I wash the sweat off my face and look at myself in the mirror. It seems like the rings under my eyes get bigger every time I do. I guess that makes sense with the lack of sleep and all.

 

I walk back down the hall to my room past the bulletin board covered with posters for the Vortex Club Halloween party next week. When I get to my door I pull off another notice from Blackwell. I scan its contents. “Dear Miss Caulfield blah blah blah. We understand this is a difficult time for all students at Blackwell blah blah blah. Counseling available blah blah blah. Reflect poorly on your academic blah blah blah.” I ball it up and throw it in the trash. I sit down on my bed and see my phone’s notification light blinking. New voicemail.

 

“Hello, Max.” I instantly recognize the voice. “This is Joyce. I… was hoping you might find time to come visit today. We’re going to be… packing up Chloe’s things this afternoon. I know you two weren’t exactly on speaking terms recently… but I’d still like for you to be able to have something to remember her by. We’ll be home all day if you want to drop by.”

 

My hand drops to the bed. Can I do that? Can I really go to Chloe’s house? Pick through her belongings? Like some vulture? Can I even do it without having a complete meltdown? I guess it doesn’t matter. My body lifts me, my heart pulling me to go. I throw on my jeans and a fresh t shirt, slip on my hoodie and my shoes, and sling my bag over my shoulder.

 

I put my head down as I walk down the hall and out the door into the quad. I keep it down as I cut across the grass towards campus and the bus stop. “Max!” I hear Warren call out, his shoes patting on the pavement as he jogs up. “Hey…” He rubs the back of his neck. “It's nice to see you… outside.”

 

“Yeah… Thanks…” I mumble.

 

“You going somewhere? Need a ride?” He smiles that goofy smile at me. It's so endearing.

 

“I…” I turn and look back at the small group he was hanging out with. “I don’t want to bother you.”

 

“No bother at all, Maximus!” He just keeps smiling. “A friend in need is a friend indeed, right?”

 

His smile infects me and I crack a small one of my own. “Thanks Warren. I’d appreciate that.”

 

“No problemo, Maximo.” And he just. Keeps. Smiling. It's actually getting a little off putting at this point. Either way, we walk together to the parking lot and get in his car. I know exactly where we’re going so it's an easy drive. He pulls into the driveway and parks. I unbuckle and thank him. “Like I said, Max. No problem.” He puts his hand on mine on top of my leg. It feels… weird. “If you ever need anything…”

 

I force a smile and nod. “Thanks.” I open the door and stand in front of the house, staring up at the unfinished blue paint as Warren backs out of the drive. My eyes trail to the right and find Chloe’s window. I see something moving and for half a second I think it might be Chloe. But of course it isn’t. I sigh, putting my head down as I walk to the door and knock.

 

“Just a minute!” a man’s voice calls from the other side. David Madsen. He opens the door. “Hello?”

 

“Oh uh…” I know I’m mumbling. I can’t stop. “Hi Mr. Madsen. I’m Max. I’m here to see Joyce.”

 

“Oh, hey there. We’ve been expecting you.” He tries to smile as he invites me in, but I can see how tired and pained his face is. “Joyce is… upstairs.” He turns to look behind him at the staircase. “You remember the way?”

 

I nod silently. He steps to the side. I walk past him and look up the stairs as he closes the door. My heart feels like it's breaking. I wish I wasn’t here. Not like this. Not without her. But I am and I have to be. I feel a hand pat my shoulder, holding it firmly.

 

“I’m… sorry, Max.” David says somberly.

 

I sigh. “Me too.” He takes his hand from my shoulder and walks into the kitchen. I hear the hiss of a bottlecap opening. I put my shaking hand on the rail and my legs carry me up the stairs. It strikes me how quiet it is without Chloe here. I can only imagine how Joyce feels. I stand just outside the closed door for what feels like an eternity before I can bring myself to knock.

 

“Come in.” Joyce calls. I open the door, slowly walking though. Joyce looks up at me from her seat on Chloe’s bed. “Oh, Max!” she says as she stands. She walks over and wraps her arms around me. “I’m glad you made it.”

 

My face presses into her chest, tears soaking her flannel. She can probably feel my body rocking with each breath as I struggle to not sob.  Always a mom first, of course she holds me and makes me feel better. Joyce was always my second mom. After I calm back down, she gives me another loving squeeze before holding my shoulders at arms length.

 

“Thank you…” I manage to cough out.

 

“Of course, Darlin’.” She smiles. It feels so warm and loving. And so wrong. Would she be smiling if she knew that it's my fault we’re here? I push that thought as far away as I can. “Well…” she says after a while. “If there’s anything you want…” Joyce looks around the room, sucking in her lips. “I put a box over there for you.” I walk over to the box that says ‘Max’ on the side and kneel down. “I’ll leave you to it…” she says, closing the door behind her.

 

I reach into the box. Joyce had already put a few things in here for me to take. Chloe’s pirate hat. A photo album. I push myself to my feet and walk toward the corner by the door. I already know my first treasure. I squat down and grab it from the shelf under the stereo. William’s camera. It still feels wrong. Like grave robbing. But Chloe’s voice calls out to me, repeating those words from the first day that week.

 

“My dad would be pissed if I never used it. And now I know it will be used awesomely.” Chloe’s voice echoes in my head.

 

“Okay, Chloe.” The words fall breathlessly from my mouth as I put the camera in the box. I know at least one thing more thing I want for sure. I turn to the cubbyhole next to the closet and look up. An old cardboard box holds my prize. I reach up, grabbing the box with two hands and carefully bring it down. Hello again, snow dome. Into the box you go.

 

I sit down on the side of your bed. I scoot in, laying back and closing my eyes. For a minute it's like you’re there with me. I forget you’re not, and reach out. My heart sighs when my hand finds nothing but empty space. I’ll never forget that morning, Chloe. Waking up next to you. Your dare. Our first kiss.

 

I can still smell you here. Hell, I can still smell the chlorine if I try. I wish I could just keep it. Capture it like a photograph and just lose myself in it whenever I'm missing you. My head flops to the side and I look at you closet. Maybe I can.

 

I roll over, reluctant to leave the memories on the bed as I stand up. Eventually I force myself out of the bed and open the closet. The first thing I do is bury Rachel's red flannel and black jeans at the bottom of the box. Then I find your hoodies. They still smell like you. Cigarette smoke. Stale sweat. Your scent. It all comes together in a smell that is uniquely “Chloe”.

 

I throw a few of the hoodies in the box. A zip-up and a couple pullovers you probably haven't worn in years. I open your dresser and nab some of your shirts too. I think I  take more than i leave. I don't know how well they'll fit but I want them either way.

 

I look back to your Hi-Fi and remember something else. I reach under the bed and pull out a small metal box and put it in my big box without even opening it. I move around the room picking up this and that. Pictures from the desk. Bracelets. Mr. Sharkie and Glowy Bear, both dug out from the bottom of the closet. When I've found everything worth keeping I head to the bathroom to claim one last prize: Bluebeard’s pirate towel.

 

I stuff the green towel into my messenger bag. I take a second to look myself over in the mirror. I sigh at how plain I look but it gives me an idea. I open the medicine cabinet. I spot a bottle of antidepressants. Like a shock I wonder how many I would have to take to escape the pain. I push that thought away and grab the bottle of blue dye from the shelf. Into the bag of holding with you.

 

I got back to your room and just sit on the end of the bed. I look around soaking in as much as I possibly can. All the memories from our childhood. All the memories nobody else has. I bury my head in my hands and just sob silently.

 

The creaking of the stairs catches in my ears. I suck up my snot and tears as best I can, pulling my sleeve across my nose. Joyce stands in the middle of the doorway, leaning against the frame. I look up at her. All I can see is Chloe and William. I start crying again. “I don't want to go.”

 

Without a word she sits next to me, showing that motherly love yet again. We hold each other in a silent vigil of the girl we both loved. After a long while she stands. “Find some good keepsakes?” I force myself to smile through bleary eyes and nod. “Good. That makes me happy, Max. We've missed you. She…”

 

I suck air through my teeth. “I… I'm sorry.”

 

She strokes my hairs down the back of my head gently. “Don't be sorry, Max. You did everything you could.”

 

It takes everything I have to keep it together. To not break down and tell her. Tell her that I could have saved her. I didn't do everything I could. Somehow I manage to keep my mouth shut and nod and smile. Joyce’s hand runs down my shoulder and she pats it. “I'll be outside whenever you're ready to go back to Blackwell.” She takes the box of memories and clothes in her hands, lifting its heft with a heave and heads out the door and down the stairs. I hear the front door open and shut. Against my will, my body stands from the bed and heads to the door. I turn back in the door frame, fingers lingering on the knob as I take one last long look.

 

My legs feel weak as I bumble back down the stairs. I probably should have had something to eat today… or yesterday. At the landing I take a last look down the hall. Something brown draped over the couch catches my eyes. As I get closer I realize it's Chloe's jacket. I pick it up and look at it. There's a bit of a dark stain on the trim on the left side. I cringe for a moment when I think what it might be.

 

I slip off my grey hoodie and into Chloe's jacket. It's a size too big for me but it feels right. It feels like she's with me. It feels like she's holding me. I sigh with a weak smile, grabbing my hoodie from the floor and walking out of the Price house for what is probably the last time.

 

I hear Joyce gasp ad I shut the door behind me. “Lord above, Max. You… you look just like her.” I look away, holding my arm across myself. I grab my arm just below the cuff of the jacket. I look back at Joyce to see her smiling with wet eyes.

 

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll… I can put it back...” I can feel my voice going quiet.

 

“N-no. You should keep it.” I can hear the hesitation in Joyce's voice. “She’d want you to have it.” She opens the drivers door. “Now let's get you back.”

 

The drive back to Blackwell is largely silent save for the jingling of trinkets in the box on the back seat. Joyce pulls the car to the curb outside the main hall and puts it in park. The exact same place Chloe dropped me off after finding out about Rachel and Frank. Joyce turns to me. “David says this is the first you've left your room since the funeral.”

 

“I… umm…” I look away. “Yeah…”

 

She takes my hand in hers. “I want you to come and see me at the Two Whales tomorrow.”

 

“O-okay.” I'm stammering again. I get out of the car and grab the box from the back seat.

“Oh, and Max?” Joyce turns around in her seat to look at me as I bend to pick up the box. Her tone sounds so motherly. Caring but stern. “I don't expect to see you until _after_ class.” I lift the box, closing the door with my hip and begin the walk back to my dorm.

 

* * *

 

The sun shining through the window wakes me up. It's a soft red glow coming through the flag. I turn my head and there you are, still sleeping after last night's adventure. I reach off the bed and grab my camera.

 

“Photobomb!” you shout as you jump into the frame.

 

“Photohog.” I laugh as the picture snaps. The camera doesn't sound right. I doesn't click. It beeps. And it keeps beeping. Then I open my eyes for real.

 

I relinquish my hold on Mr. Sharkie and reach for my beeping phone. With the alarm off I think about staying in bed. Could I just lie to Joyce about going to class? No. Even if I wanted to David would tell her the truth.

 

I swing my legs off the bed, looking at the box on the ground in front of my feet. After a minute I go to take a shower. Victoria stops me on the way back to my room.

 

“You're up early today, Maxine.” Victoria says.

 

“Max.” I turn my head down and away. “Never Maxine.”

 

“Right. Sorry, Max.” Did Victoria Chase just say sorry? She looks me up and down. “Coming to class today are we?”

 

“Y-yeah…” I manage to get out. “Gonna try.”

 

“Good. Your talent was sorely missed in photography.” She says. My heart drops. My brain hurts. “Max? Are you okay?”

 

I unfreeze. “I'm fine. I have to get ready.” I rush into my room and practically slam the door. I sit on my couch and look at the box on the floor. I reach in and pull out Rachel's black jeans and one of Chloe”s shirts. A white one with a bird flying in front of the sun. It's little big on me but that's okay.

 

I tie on my sneakers and put on Chloe's jacket. I check myself in the mirror before I go. For half a second I could swear I wasn't looking at a mirror. But of course you are, Max. I grab my messenger bag and head to class for the first time since Chloe died.

 

I feel like a ghost walking through the halls of Blackwell. Everybody else has moved on. They don’t care about Chloe just like they hadn't cared about Rachel. I still hear them whisper. Not sure about me or Chloe. But if I see anybody write things about Chloe like they did about Rachel I might just kill them.

 

Thankfully I don't have to kill anyone. They only whisper about me finally coming out of my cave. The ones that aren't whispering behind my back are being too nice. Grossly sweet and trying way too hard. Especially Warren. But at least I know he's actually trying.

 

Everything seems to be going fine if not a bit dull. Classes drone on and my mind tends to wander. But that's not out of the ordinary. I talk to Kate as we walk down the hall. It's not until we walk into the classroom that I realize where we are.

 

“Max?” Kate asks. My legs stop working and my eyes go wide just inside the door. “Are you okay?”

 

I realize I'm not moving. I realize I'm overwhelmed by my memories. Memories that nobody else has. I take a deep breath. I hadn't even been breathing. “I'm okay... I'll be okay.”

 

Kate wrings her fingers together nervously. “It's okay to not be okay, Max…”

 

“I… I know.” I take a few deep breaths. My grip gradually loosens on my bag. “But I'm okay.”

 

She seems to believe me. Hesitantly. I know she's just looking out for me. I go to my usual seat at the back. Kate takes hers. The others trickle in one or two at a time. Victoria smiles at me. It makes me confused.

 

The substitute says we'll be working on a portraiture project with our partners from last week. I watch as everybody pairs off. My heart races. Who's my partner? That's when I see Victoria walking to my table.

 

“Ready to get to work, Maxine?” she asks sliding into the seat across from me. I just look at her. “Sorry. Max. Not Maxine.”

 

“I think so. What are we supposed to be doing?” I ask. I feel stupid being out of the loop. Victoria explains that the assignment is about taking our partner's photograph in the style of other artists. Including our partner's. Simple enough. She says I should be first to take the pictures.

 

“Wait. Where's your camera?” Victoria cocks her head to the side.

 

“My… my room.” I'm avoiding eye contact.

 

“Why?” I can feel her eyes on me.

 

“I-I…” I'm mumbling now. How can I tell her I haven't touched my camera since that day in the bathroom? That I tore down all the photos in my wall because they were too loud? Too tempting. I could try to fix things. I could--

 

“It's whatever.” Her words bring my thoughts to a halt. “You can use my camera today. But I _am_ upset to be missing out on that particular facet of _your_ style.” I stare at her. “What?”

 

I squint. “Why are you being nice to me?”

 

Victoria sighs. “Max, after everything that's happened this month I think we could all stand to be a lot nicer to each other.” She takes her camera from her bag. “I'm sorry, by the way.” I look at her confused. She looks nervous. “For… Nathan. What he did…”

 

I feel the tears coming. “Let’s uhh... Let's just get started.” I say trying to change the subject. Thankfully she agrees and hands me the camera. Apparently the class learned about this project last week so Victoria already had a list of photographers and references for us to pick from. I decide I’m going to replicate my favorites: Avedon, diCorcia, and Leibovitz. My hands shake around the camera. I do my best to imitate them but that’s all it is. A pale imitation.

 

“You could probably capture diCorcia better with your Polaroid.” Victoria muses as she swipes through the photos on the camera’s screen. “Oh, but these are still good.” She’s quick to correct herself. I guess Victoria _is_ trying to be nicer. She transfers a batch of photos to the computer and points the camera at me. “Ready for your closeup?” She smirks.

 

I follow Victoria’s direction in posing and lighting just as she had done for me. It's different on this side of the camera. I was shaking before. Now I’m petrified. My chest tightens as the flash on her camera charges. I jump when it goes off. She looks up from behind the camera. “Are you okay, Max?”

 

“I… uhh…” I gulp. I can feel the sweat on my face. “Yeah. I’m--Yeah.”

 

Victoria shrugs and takes another photo. I can feel every muscle in my body screaming as they strain to keep me still. A few more poses and lighting arrangements later Victoria seems satisfied with her shots. She scrolls through them before holding out the camera to me. “Here. Take a look.”

 

“I--I’m sure they’re great.” I assure her.

 

“Don’t insult me, Max.” She shoves the camera into my hands.

 

I look down at the camera’s screen. It's a picture of me, of course. Victoria captured Arbus’s style perfectly. Voices trickle in my ears. Words I know I heard minutes earlier. The picture flickers and bends on the screen and my hand jerks away, dropping the camera. I hear something break. I can’t catch my breath.

 

“Max! That was a three thousand dollar camera!” Victoria shouts. I’m hyperventilating. People are staring. I have to leave. I have to run.

 

“I’m-sorry-I-have-to-go.” It all comes out as one word as I grab my bag and run out. My steps echo in the hall. All I can hear are my footsteps and my own panting. Everything is spinning. I crash into the doors to the outside and don’t stop until I hit the fountain. I double over, my reflection staring back at me as I lean over the edge. My tears send ripples through the water. I fall to my knees, leaning on the fountian and stay there until the last bell rings. I don’t want anybody to see me like this. I push myself up off the ground before anybody sees me and head to the bus stop.

 

I put my headphones in and try to distract myself like I used to. I can’t. It's like every song reminds me of you. I yank the buds from my ears and ride the rest of the way to the Two Whales with nothing but the hum of the bus’s engine. I thank the bus driver as I climb down the stairs and look up at the Two Whales sign. I remember taking a picture of this. I hang my head and start heading inside.

 

“Max!” Joyce calls as I walk in. She rushes over, wrapping one arm around me in a hug, the other holding a pot of coffee away from us. “Grab a seat and a menu. It’s on me.”

 

I slide into the booth closest to the door. I can see Frank's RV through the window. Actually I can see Frank at the corner booth, no doubt crying into his beans. I pick up the menu, not that I need it. I glance at it before I grab a mug and put the menu back without even really reading it.

 

“That was fast.” Joyce says cheerily, filling my mug.

 

“I don't need to think about getting a famous Two Whales burger.” I hope my smile is convincing.

 

“Fair enough.” She jots it down. “One Two Whales burger.”

 

“Can I um… can I get a second one to go actually?”

 

Joyce arches a brow. “Hungry today?”

 

I look down at my coffee. “I… haven't been eating a lot lately.”

 

Joyce brushes my shoulder. “I know what you mean. I'll get those right out, hon.” She walks back around the counter to the kitchen.

 

I just sit there waiting. Trying to keep my mind off things. That's not easy. Especially here. Frank gets up and walks past me. I hear him walk to the far end of the diner. By the time he makes his way back past me the jukebox is already playing. Acoustic guitar notes carry through the Two Whales. I didn’t expect Frank to put on something so… twangy.

 

_I knew it when I met you, I said_

 

_This girl has the means to change my life._

 

_And I felt it deep enough to know that_

 

_All I had to do was hold on tight._

 

Frank slumps back down into his booth and takes a drink from a can as the lyrics start.

 

_I built up my intention until_

 

_I loved you so much that I could die._

 

_And even as my body fell apart_

_  
_ _I swear I’ve never felt more alive._

 

I hold my mug with both hands and look down into it. It's so hard not to cry. Especially with this stupid song playing.

 

_Now you’re photographs and memory._

 

_Like I remember when you said you’d always be with me._

 

_I’m hoping that in some other realty,_

 

_We’re in your truck, driving straight into my fantasy._

 

I see Frank shift in his seat, his hand digging into his pocket. He props his head up with a hand, looking at whatever he took out. I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

 

_It's strange to think how much has change,_

 

_That you used to lay next to me in bed_

 

_And that’s incompatible with that_

 

_Funny kind of hole that’s there instead._

 

The tears are coming. I can feel them burning as they roll down my cheeks. I’m trying to smile, trying to fight it. But I just can’t.

 

_So carry me away somewhere_

 

_With simple little stories left unsaid,_

 

_So i don’t have the time to convince myself_

 

_I made it all up in my head._

 

I can see you, Chloe. I can see us. I can see the things we did together. I can hear you. It's like you’re so close but I can’t touch you.

 

_So what if it was destiny?_

 

_Now there's nothing left for us to be._

 

_I could never take back what you meant to me._

 

_I was in love, and I meant it for eternity._

 

I’m coughing, fighting back a full on sob. I hear Frank’s empty can hit the table. He snorts and sniffles too.

 

_And I still do._

 

I open my eyes as the notes slow and fade out. I grab a few napkins, wiping my face as Joyce comes out of the kitchen. By the time she’s rounded the counter and made it back to my table I’ve cleaned myself up a bit.

 

Joyce smiles, sliding a plate onto the table. “Eat up.”

 

I sniffle a bit when I look up to Joyce. “Thank you, Joyce.” I grab the burger and take a big bite, hoping I can’t cry anymore with food in my mouth. Frank stands up and walks out as the song picks back up. He’s holding a picture in his hand.

 

_So what if it was destiny?_

 

_You never knew how much you meant to me._

 

_I wish I could at least have said ‘I’m sorry.’_

 

_Lastly, love, I set you free._

 

_Though I still do._

 

I breath out through my nose, screwing my eyes shut as tears roll down my cheeks that I tried to stuff like a chipmunk. I breath back in my nose, just holding my mouth closed. Breathe in. Breathe out. After a bit I manage to calm down enough to work the food in my mouth and swallow. When I open my eyes Joyce is sitting across from me, hands folded in front of her mouth.

 

“I’m sorry, Max.” She says, putting her hands back down. “I didn’t mean to stare. I just…”

 

“It’s okay.” I put the burger back on the plate. “I know you’re just worried about me.”

 

“I am.” she sighs. “I know how hard it is. To lose somebody you care so much about.”

 

I nod and try to smile, but I know it's not a smile.

 

She smiles, but her eyes are just as sad as they’ve ever been. “If there’s ever _anything_ I can do…”

 

I look down at my plate. My fingers push around the fries absentmindedly. “I just want to feel normal again.”

 

“Something I learned after William…” Joyce trails off. “We can never really get back what we lost, Max. We just… find a new normal.”

 

My hand stops moving on my plate. I look at her. My jaw is hanging open but I can’t think, trying to process what she said.

 

The bell on the door jingles. “Just… think about it.” Joyce says as she stands from the booth. She holds my shoulder, lingering for a moment before she goes to greet the people walking in.

 

I sit in the booth picking and nibbling at my burger and fries. Mostly drinking the coffee that Joyce keeps refilling. It takes me a lot longer than any sane person would take to eat a burger and fries, but I get it all eventually. I don’t want to make Joyce worry any more. I reach into my bag for some money and Joyce drops a to-go bag on the table in front of me.

 

“I already told you your money’s no good here.” She smiles, grabbing my empty plate.

 

“Thanks, Joyce.” I smile, putting my money away.

 

“Don’t thank me. Just enjoy your dinner.” She points to the bag on the table. “Now get. You’ve been warming that seat all afternoon.”

 

That actually manages to make me chuckle. I grab the bag and head out the door, waving goodbye to Joyce. I take out my phone and look at the clock. The bus isn’t going to come for almost another hour. How long would it take me to walk back? Probably longer. I take a few steps toward the bus stop and see Frank sitting next to his RV in a lawn chair with Pompidou at his feet. I put my phone in my pocket and walk over to him.

 

“H-Hey.” I say.

 

Frank looks at me over his sunglasses, beer in his hand. “Who in the blue fuck?”

 

“Hi… I’m uh… Max.” I can hear the nerves in my own voice. I’m sure he can too.

 

“Okay,” he takes a drink from the bottle. “What the fuck do you want?”

 

“I just…” I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I know Frank. Kind of. “Wanted to talk.”

 

“About what?” Frank sneers. I’m annoying him now.

 

“I saw you the other day.” I reach around to grab my own arm. “At the funeral.”

 

Frank sighs and takes a long sip from the beer. He pauses a few moments before saying anything. “You uh… You knew Chloe?”

 

“She was my best friend.” I smile thinking about her. “Somebody once said we were like Thelma and Louise.”

 

Frank scoffs, half smiling. “Yeah. I can see that.”

 

We stay there like that awkwardly. Him sitting, me standing. Not really looking at each other but aware of the other person. “Can you…” I finally work up the courage to ask. “Can you tell me about her?”

 

Frank’s eyebrow goes up. “Though you said you were best friends.”

 

I look away from him. “I… was. My family moved away five years ago. Now I’m back at Blackwell.”

 

“Pfft. Blackwell.” Frank scoffs as takes another drink. “But I seen the way Joyce treats you. Plus.” He reaches down to scratch Pompidou’s head. “My dog ain’t even barked at you. So you can’t be all bad.”

 

I smile down at Pompidou. “He’s cute. I bet he wouldn’t hurt a fly. What’s his name?”

 

“Pompidou’s ripped people’s heads off before, believe you me.” he points at me with his hand.

 

I kneel down and scratch Pompidou’s head. He pants and licks my hand. I scratch behind with both ears and Pompidou rolls over and wags his tail.

 

“Huh. Never see him warm up to someone so fast.” Frank sits up in his chair.

 

“Who’s a good boy?” I babytalk at Pompidou as I rub his belly. “You want a treat, treat boy?”

 

Frank sighs as he stands up. He grabs the lawn chair and starts walking toward his RV. “Well. Come on in, I guess.” He opens the door and climbs up the stairs with the folded chair.

 

I step up the stairs of the old RV. Yup. Still stinks.

 

“Go on and grab a seat I guess.” Frank calls back over his shoulder digging in the fridge. He pulls out a beer holding it out toward me. “You want one?”

 

I think about it for a second. I don’t want to be rude, right? “Yeah. Sure.” I do _not_ sound confident. Frank grabs a second beer and cracks their caps off on the edge of the counter. When he sits down he hands me the one he isn’t already drinking. “Thanks.” I take a sip. My stomach jumps up into my throat. This is disgusting! But I swallow it with a grimace on my face.

 

“Tastes like piss, huh?” Frank chuckles. “Drowns the pain just the same, though.”

 

“I hope so.” I mumble, gagging as I take another drink.

 

“Chloe’s best friend, huh?” Frank looks me up and down. “You the one that abandoned her?”

 

“I…” I have look away from Frank’s eyes. Anywhere else. “Yeah…”

 

“She never shut up about you.” Frank shakes his head and takes another drink.

 

“She didn’t?” My voice comes out quietly as I look down at Pompidou.

 

“Yeah. I mean… I wasn’t her best friend or anything. But half the time I saw her she was always like ‘Max would’ve hated this. Max doesn’t know what she’s missing.’ It got pretty fucking annoying.”

 

It hurts so much to hear that, but I’m still smiling. You never forgot about me either. I’m sorry I left you, Chloe. I’m starting to cry now. Pompidou puts his head on my lap and whines.

 

“Geeze, I’m sorry, kiddo.” Frank rubs the back of his head. “Chloe was real special. I don’t need to tell you that.” He takes another drink from his beer. “This sucks.”

 

“Yeah. It does.” I take another drink. It still tastes like crap, but at least I’m not gagging. I scratch Pompidou’s head. “It was five years since I saw her. Now I’ll never see her again.” Pompidou licks my hand as the tears start to fall.

 

“Hey, hey. Chloe wouldn’t want you to cry.” Frank says. “I mean I didn’t know Chloe great, but I know that.”

 

“I just… I missed so much.” I try to stop crying. But he’s right.

 

“Well, I’ll tell ya.” Frank says as he grabs two more beers from the fridge.

 

And he does. Frank tells me everything he knows about Chloe. Some first hand, some second hand through Chloe or Rachel. It's hard for Frank to talk about Rachel, probably just as hard as it is for me to talk about Chloe. But he hides it a lot better than I do.

 

“Then Rachel went missing and things between us…” Frank finishes his fifth or six beer. It's hard to keep track. I’ve probably had about as many. I’m getting pretty dizzy actually. He was right though. Drowns the pain.

 

“You’re a good guy, Frank.” I try to reassure him. “Don’t let anybody tell you different.”

 

“Yeah, well…” Frank looks at his watch. “Hey. How are you getting home?”

 

I look out the window. It's way past dark. Oh, shit. “Oh, shit.”

 

“Well I ain’t gonna let you walk after getting you liquored up.” Frank says, grabbing his keys from the table. He sits in the driver seat and fires the engine up. “Hold on!” The RV jerks and shakes as he pulls it out of the lot. I try to stand up and go to the front seat but fall down. Pompidou thinks I’m playing and licks my face. I just giggle dumbly. A short drive later Frank pulls the RV into the Blackwell student parking lot. “If you get caught, you don’t fucking know me.” he says. It's hard to tell if he’s kidding or serious.

 

“Of course not.” I zip my fingers across my mouth and climb down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

So this is a hangover. Fuck. I reach over and turn the alarm off on my phone. I still don’t want to go to class. Especially feeling like this. But it's my own fault. Maybe Frank’s too, but mostly mine.

 

I get up and smell myself. Not too bad I guess. I slept in my clothes though. I change my underwear and get dressed again. One of my own shirts today but I’m still wearing Rachel’s pants and Chloe’s jacket. Even added some of Chloe’s studded bracelets for good measure.

 

“Hey, Max.” Victoria calls out as I close my door behind me.

 

“Oh uh hey.” I say. Man my head hurts.

 

“How are you feeling after last night?” Victoria asks me.

 

“Last night?” I ask.

 

Victoria smirks. “Yeah. You were stumbling around campus totally sloshed. I helped you back to your room.”

 

“I don’t…” I start, rubbing the ridge of my nose.

 

“No, I don’t suspect you would.” she says “Have you ever even drank before?”

 

“No just… a few sips of wine.” I feel like I’m gonna be sick.

 

“Well,” she says, putting her hand on my arm. “I know you’re going through a lot. I can’t really blame you. Just try not to overdo it, okay?”

 

“Yeah. I’ll try.” I tell her. It's still weird that Victoria is being so nice. And she helped me back to my dorm last night?

 

“Pretty wicked hangover?” Victoria asks.

 

“You don’t know the half of it.” I groan a little. Feels like my head’s in a vice.

 

“You wanna hit the girl’s potty and smoke-em peace pipe?” Victoria says out of the blue. “Usually helps me after a party night.”

 

“I…” I close my eyes and shake my head. “Why are you being so nice after I broke your camera.”

 

Victoria sighs. “Max, there will be more cameras. There’s not going to be another you. I know I was a total bitch to everybody. You especially. I’m just trying to make up for it.”

 

I give a great big sigh. Okay, Victoria. “Okay, Victoria. If you think it’ll help.”

 

And it does help. We stand in the girls washroom on either side of a running shower passing a pipe back and forth blowing the smoke into the stream of water. I'm starting to see why Chloe called it medicating. After a few hits the pipe is empty. Victoria stows it in her purse.

 

“You coming to the Vortex Club Halloween party?” Victoria asks leaning her head back against the tile.

 

“I don't think so.” I tell her.

 

“You've been through a lot, Max.” she turns to look at me. “I think it would really help you unwind.”

 

I wrap my arm around myself like I always do. “I don't know…”

 

“Well it's an open invitation. Just think about it, okay?” She walks out before I can respond.

 

I go back to my room after. I don't really do anything. Mostly look up hangover cures. Kate drops by. She notices how red my eyes are. I lie and tell her I was crying. I guess it's not a lie even if it isn't the whole truth. A while after she leaves Warren comes over and offers to help me catch up on my schoolwork. I try to tell him I'll be fine but he won't take no for an answer.

 

After a couple hours I tell him I have somewhere to be. I don't but I really just want him to leave. I just lie on my bed for a while after he leaves. My stomach growls. Maybe it's time to head to the Two Whales.

 

I don't really feel much of anything on my way there. More numb than anything. Joyce greets me with a hug and pays for my lunch again. She even gives me dinner in a doggy bag. She must really want to make sure I'm eating enough.

 

On the way out I see Frank in his usual corner of the lot. I walk over and pet Pompidou. We go inside the RV. Talk a bit. Drink a bit more. He grabs a pipe and some weed. I ask for a hit.

 

Frank snorts. “Didn't peg you as a pothead.”

 

“Neither did I.” I shrug.

 

He laughs and hands me the pipe.

 

The next few days go pretty much the same. Go to class or play catch up. Afternoon Two Whales. Hang out with Frank and Pompidou. I don't know if it feels like me or if it feels normal. But it feels like Chloe and that feels good.

 

I wake up on Halloween morning with a hangover. Again. I groan as I roll out of bed. My foot hits a couple bottles. I drop them in the trash on my way to the window. I open it and pick up the blue and clear glass pipe Frank gave me. I told him he didn't have to get me anything but he said that's what friends are for.

 

I really need to wash this smell off my skin. After a long hot shower I look at myself in the mirror. I still look as tired and plain as every. I run my fingers through my hair and look down to my bag at a bottle that's been sitting there unopened for a week now. Half an hour later I leave a blue stained sink behind me as I walk out of the washroom. I get dressed and grab a beanie from the box of Chloe's stuff since it's been chilly lately.

 

I get looks all day long. Which is strange because other people are in actual costumes. I just have blue hair. It doesn't matter. I'm not unused to having people stare.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Victoria's jaw gapes when she sees me in the only class we have together.

 

“Nothing?” I ask her, confused.

 

She grabs my hand and pulls me off to the side of the room. “Look.” She whispers. “I know you miss Chloe. I get that. But this?” she says waving her hand up and down. “It's not okay, Max.”

 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” I say, turning away.

 

She holds my wrist and pulls me back. “Max--”

 

“Get off me!” I shout, tugging my arm away. Everybody's looking. Well fuck them. I grab my bag and stomp out. I don't even know where I'm going. Fuck this place though.

 

“Hey!” a voice shouts “Get back to class, missy. I will--” the voice cuts out. I turn and David is staring at me. “Max?” he almost whispers now.

 

“Oh uh… hi David…” I say, hand still lingering in the door outside.

 

“I thought…” David is at a loss for words for the first time I can remember since the Dark Room. “You look just like…”

 

I push the bar on the door and run.

 

“Max wait!” I hear him shout behind me as he follows me outside. I keep running the whole way off campus and walk the rest of the way downtown. I hear glass break as I walk along the sidewalk next to the Two Whales parking lot.

 

“Chloe!?” Frank's voice shouts from across the lot. He runs up and grabs my shoulders. “Max? What the fuck are you doing?”

 

“Sup, Frank?” I say nonchalantly, “Grabbing a bite at the diner. You wanna come with?”

 

“What happened to you hair?” he asks still holding my shoulders with both hands.

 

“Pretty punk, right?” I'm grinning so wide. I know I look good.

 

Frank stares at me for a minute like he's scared or something. “Max. You can't go in there like this. You're gonna give Joyce a fucking heart attack.”

 

“Whatever, Frank.” I shirk him off and walk past him.

 

He's wrong. I don't give Joyce a heart attack. But she screams. A lot. Then she starts throwing plates. And mugs. And silverware. Screaming the whole time. I’m just standing there, frozen. Frank dashes in the door.

 

“Bowers!” Officer Berry shouts, trying to restrain Joyce and calm her down. “Get her out of here!”

 

Frank grabs me and pulls me out the door. “I told you not to go in there!” He shouts, still dragging me.

 

“Let go of me!” I shout, pulling away. I run.

 

“Max!” Frank calls after me. Pompidou barks.

 

I don’t look back. I just keep running. It feels like I’m doing that a lot lately. It's a lot harder to walk back up the hill to Blackwell then it is to walk down. I probably should have realized this at some point before now. I’m far from the only one out here as the sun starts to set. All the kids and their parents trick-or-treating. They’re all too caught up in the fun to notice me. I can’t help remember all the silly costumes Chloe and I wore together. I jam my hands in my pockets and keep walking.

 

It's after dark by the time I make it to Blackwell. I can see lights flashing through the windows above the pool. The Vortex Club Halloween party. This is the first day since I met up with Frank that I haven’t had a drink and I don’t want that to change. As I get closer I can hear the bass thumping through the walls. I walk around the building to the side door and wait for somebody to come out and slip in before it closes.

 

My heart races in the dim blacklights, the music feels like it's shaking my whole body now. There’s a handful of other people not wearing costumes so I guess I’m not too out of place. I look around and when I see the makeshift bar I make a beeline for it, grabbing the first unattended cup I see. I gulp it down. Not beer. But definitely alcohol. I grab another cup and walk away. I find a spot on the wall to lean on away from the speakers and just hang out, sipping whatever this drink is.

 

About three drinks in I’m finally relaxed again. Bopping my head to the beat. Saying “Hi” to people. Smiling. That’s about the time Taylor walks up.

 

“Hey, Max,” she shouts over the music.“Victoria wants to see you in the VIP lounge.”

 

I scoff and throw my head back. “Why?”

 

“I dunno. Just passing along the message.” She looks at the two empty paper cups at my feet. “Well… I hope you’re having a good time.”

 

I shrug and she walks away. I look over and see the curtain for the VIP area on the other side of the pool. So I drown my drink, crush the cup in my hand, and make my way over. I almost get hit with a pool noodle for my trouble but eventually get there. I just walk on in, nobody even tries to stop me.

 

“Max!” Victoria’s voice hits my ears before the curtain falls off my shoulder. She does that European thing where somebody kisses both your cheeks. “You made it! Oh, but no costume. I’m très disappointed.”

 

“Uh… Sorry.” I’m not sure what to say or why she’s hugged me. “It was a spur of the moment decision.”

 

“No, no. It's not a problem.” She pulls away and I realize she’s dressed like Sailor Mercury. My heart thumps at her blue hair, wig or not. “C’mon. Let’s chill out.” She takes my hand and leads me to a couch in the middle of the VIP lounge. “You already know most of the club.” A couple of them say “Hi.” or raise their cups to acknowledge me. The conversations just take place around me. I’m just zoning out with my drink.

 

Should I even be here? Would Chloe be here? No. Well… Maybe. If Rachel Amber was here. But I don't have a Rachel.

 

“Max?” Victoria's voice breaks through the haze.

 

“Huh?” I shake my head until I find her still on the couch next to me.

 

“I asked if you wanted to party.” Victoria holds out a small bowl of assorted pills.

 

Without thinking I grab one and down it with another drink. And I don't feel any different. Victoria asks me to dance. I say yes. Why do I say yes? I don't know. But dancing feels good. I close my eyes and move my body. I feel alive. I feel normal again with the music and the booze and the pills coursing through my body.

 

I don't even know how to dance. I'm pretty sure I'm just flailing my arms and legs vaguely to the beat. But it doesn't matter. It feels good. I'm smiling so hard it hurts. Is Victoria smiling too? I open my eyes to see the girl dancing next to me.

 

But it's you, Chloe. You're there right next to me, dancing. Your body moving perfectly to the music, arms swinging above your head. And I freeze. “What's wrong, hippy? Shake that bony white ass!” you shout over the music as you dance.

 

Then you stop dancing. “Max?” you ask. Then you grab my hand. Our fingers tangle together and you pull me to the couch. “I think you need to take a break.” I'm just… looking at you. Your blue hair. Your white tank top. “Max? Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

Then I do what I should have done two months ago. I pounce on you and kiss you right on the lips. No dare. Just need. I close my eyes. I feel your hands on my shoulders. It feels good to be this close to you again.

 

Then you shove me away and I fall to the ground. When I open my eyes you're not on the couch. But Victoria is. In her blue wig. In her white Sailor Mercury costume. Everybody around me goes silent. Staring at me. The only sound is the driving bassline.

 

My quiet “Fuck…” is drowned out by the music. I turn my head wildly looking for my escape with tears starting to stream down my face. When I spot the door I scramble to my feet and bolt.

 

I'm in full on hysterics by the time I reach my door. I practically fall through the door and slam it behind me. “I can't do this anymore.” I cry as I reach into the box on the floor. “Not without you.” My hands find the photo album under all the clothes and memories. I drag it out of the box and flip it open in my lap. I pull a picture of us out of the cellophane pouch and hold it in front of my face, staring at it.

 

Nothing's happening. Why is nothing happening? I don't hear anything. The picture isn't vibrating in the frame. I can't… why can't I…

 

* * *

 

I peel my head off the pile of clothes and wipe the drool from my face. I pick up the picture from last night. As soon as I look at it i can hear it. I flick it away from me. I hold my head and try to remember what happened last night. And I do. And I wish it wasn't real. But those pills…

 

I change my shirt and put in one of Chloe's hoodies. I throw the photo album into my seldom used green plaid backpack and grab the rest of my birthday money from my desk. I'm thankful everybody else is in class as I leave the dorms and start walking downtown. Man I really need a car.

 

I pull my hood up as I get closer to the Two Whales. Frank's not outside so I knock. No answer. Well I can't go look for him inside. I sit and lean on the door and wait.

 

“What do _you_ want?” Frank asks, waking me.

 

I push myself to my feet. “I wanted to say I'm sorry.”

 

“Okay. Great.” he walks past me and puts the key in the door.

 

“I brought some pictures. Of Chloe…” I start taking off my backpack. “And Rachel.”

 

Frank pauses before inviting me in. We talk and drink some more. He looks at the album a lot more than I do. Eventually I work up the courage to do what I came here for.

 

“Frank?” I start to ask.

 

“Yeah, kid?” He doesn't look up from the album.

 

“Did you uhh…” Why am I so nervous? We're friends, right? “Did you supply the Vortex Club party last night?”

 

“Maybe.” He takes a drink.

 

“It's just… there were some pills at the party…” My hands fidget under the table.

 

“Did those Blackwell shits hurt you?” Frank asks suddenly angry.

 

“No, no!” I raise my hands trying to calm him down. “I just....” He looks at me confused. I pull a wad of money out of my backpack.  “I need some more.”

 

Frank gladly sells me the pills I'm looking for after we figure out what I actually took. I down a couple and hang out a while longer. Frank starts asking about pictures. Without thinking I go over and take a look. No voices. No moving. They're just pictures.

 

After a while I decide to go but Frank won’t let me walk. So I call Warren for a ride. Of course he comes. He even helps me me to the dorms. Kate takes over from there and gets me to my room. At least I remember getting home this time.

 

When I wake up I open the album. Slowly. I take out a picture and sure enough I could jump into the memory if I wanted to. I grab the pills I got from Frank and wash them down with a swig of booze. I wait a while and try again. And they're just pictures again.

 

I start smiling. Then I start laughing. Laughing so hard I cry. I find the photos I tore off my wall after the funeral and start putting them back up. I stand back and take another swig, smiling at the rebuilt wall.

 

I fall into a routine over the next weeks. I take my “medicine” as soon as I wake up in the morning. Then I can go to class like anybody else. I spend most of my time not in class in my room but sometimes I have tea with Kate or talk with Warren or Victoria. And I can take pictures again.

 

* * *

 

By Thanksgiving I feel like I've finally found my new normal. I still wear Chloe's clothes sometimes. Her jacket rarely leaves my shoulders. But I haven't dyed my hair again.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home for Thanksgiving?” My dad asks, his voice cackling over the phone.

 

“No, it's okay, Dad.” I lean against the wall in the dark. “I’m going to have Thanksgiving with Chloe’s mom and step-dad. They… really seem like they need somebody right now.”

 

“Okay, hon. I’m sure they appreciate it.” His voice sounds so warm. “We love you!”

 

“Love you guys too.” I say before the line goes dead.

 

A few days later it's actually Thanksgiving. I’m sitting alone in my room. I lied to my parents. I’m not having dinner with Joyce. I haven’t seen Joyce since that day at the diner. When did I become somebody who lies to my parents? I guess what they don’t know can’t hurt them. I put on a movie and zone out.

 

A knock at the door wakes me from my nap. “Max?” It's Kate.

 

“Come in, Kate.” I call through the door, still waking back up.

 

She walks in the door with some kind of tray in her hands. “You haven’t left your room for a while…” Kate sits on my couch and sets the tray next to her. “I thought maybe we could eat Thanksgiving dinner together.” She pulls the foil off the tray. There’s two plates of turkey, potatoes, stuffing, and peach cobbler. “I mean…” She looks at me with those big sad eyes. “If you want…”

 

“Yeah, Kate.” I smile as best I can. “That sounds nice.”

 

We don’t say much while we eat. We don’t have to. It's enough to just have somebody there, y’know?

 

* * *

 

With Christmas just a few days away, my grades look like a dumpster fire. Mom and Dad are making me come home. I know that means looking at old pictures. I get an advance on my pills from Frank to make sure I have enough to get through. They haven't been working as well lately so I've been talking a couple extra here and there.

 

Christmas with my parents is beyond painful. I spend most of the time there in my room. I spend most of dinner zoned out.

 

“Are you listening, Max?” My dad asks across the table.

 

“Huh?” I’m swirling my fork on my plate absentmindedly. Well not entirely. Thinking of Chloe. “Sorry.”

 

“I said I think it's time for you to come home from Blackwell. Permanently.” He sounds pretty upset.

 

“No. Dad. I can’t do that.” I shake my head.

 

“Why not? You were going there for your photography, right? What happened with that?” he says raising his hand up. “The guy you went there to learn from turned out to be some kinda psycho.”

 

“Dad, no. I-- The photography program is still really good!” I can feel the panic in my voice. I hope he can’t. “And-- and my friends!”

 

My mom sighs and holds my dad’s hand.

 

“And… Chloe’s mom.” I say quietly.

 

My mom looks at my dad and squeezes his hand. “Honey, I think your father has a point.” Here it comes. “But… if you can bring your grades back up… you can stay at Blackwell.”

 

“I will!” I say. “I promise!”

 

* * *

 

I should know better than to make promises I can’t keep. Since the start of the new year I’ve pretty much kept to myself. It's February. Spring is in the air. Snow is still on the ground, but Spring is still in the air, I guess. Warren comes over after class and helps me study for a big science test we have next week.

 

“Hey, Max?” He says, leaning on the door getting ready to leave.

 

“Yeah, Warren?” I ask, looking up from my textbook.

 

“If you’re uh…” He rubs the back of his head that way he seems to always do. “Not busy next week…” I already know where this is going. “I was thinking maybe… You’d wanna…” I hate to admit it, but it's pretty cute when he’s flustered.

 

“I’m sorry, Warren. I just…” I can already see him deflating like a balloon. “I just don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I don’t… want to ruin our friendship.”

 

“Okay…” he sighs. I walk over and give him a friendly hug.

 

“But you’re still a great friend.” I try to smile.

 

“Yeah…” He looks so sad now.

 

“Hey. What about Stella? Or Brooke?” I ask him. “I bet they’d love to go out with you.”

 

“Yeah?” There’s that glimmer.

 

“Yeah. You should go ask them.” I pat him on the arm.

 

“Thanks, Max.” He smiles at me as he leaves and I smile back before slumping back in front of my science book. I take out a couple of pills and reach under the desk and grab a bottle, taking a swig. I’m up to a few pills a day now to keep my powers at bay.

 

* * *

 

It's almost the end of April now. Things are starting to get warmer. Chloe’s jacket is still light enough to wear all year though. Things have been pretty calm for a while all things considered. My grades are better. My photography is as good as it's ever been. But I’m spending all the money my parents give me on these pills. Even money that’s supposed to be for film for my camera. And I’m barely getting by.

 

Posters start popping up. Rachel Amber’s face plastered all over the school. At first I think I’m going crazy. But they’re not missing person posters this time. It's some memorial event. I can’t help but think about how hypocritical it is. They didn’t care when she went missing. Only Chloe did. And they don’t even care about Chloe. Excuse me for quoting Holden Caulfield, but what a bunch of phonies.

 

It sends me over the edge. Knowing I’m the only person here who even cared about Chloe. And she didn’t even know. Not this timeline’s Chloe at least. I start drinking even more. The pills keep not working. I keep needing more and more. I can’t keep track of how much I’ve begged and borrowed to keep my head above water like this.

 

* * *

 

So I guess that's how I got here. It's the end of June. I'm officially a graduate of Blackwell Academy in Arcadia Bay, Oregon. The town I saved by letting Chloe Price die. The ceremony should be starting about now, actually. I can almost see it from here. Are you proud, Mom and Dad?

 

My phone rings. It's Mom. I probably shouldn’t pick it up. But I do.

 

“Max?” she asks. She sounds worried. “Where are you? The graduation is starting.”

 

I don’t say anything. I’m trying so hard just not to cry.

 

“Max? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Mom always used to know when something was wrong.

 

“I-I’m fine.” I choke out above the tears. I hope she doesn’t hear me crying.

 

“Well where are you? We were just at your dorm. Are you at the diner?” she asks

 

“I just… I’m sorry, Mom..” I say.

 

“Max?” She’s panicking now. “What does that mean? Max? Max!?”

 

I hang up the phone.

 

I'm sitting on our bench at the lighthouse. The sun is just beginning setting. The golden hour. It looks so much like that day in October when you saved me from Nathan. I'm trying to hold back the tears. I don't know why. Maybe I want to pretend I'm stronger than I am. But if that was true I wouldn't be here right now. A butterfly lands on the photo album on the bench next to me. I stare at it. This can't be the same butterfly. It turns, flapping its blue wings at me. It is. I know it is.

 

“Okay.” I say, looking down at the butterfly. I open the album and the butterfly lands next to it on the bench. I find a picture of us. A good one. No, the best. I look at it and the image writhes in its frame, singing to me.

 

_I know that it is freezing,_

 

_But I think we have to walk_

 

I put some pills in my mouth and wash them down with a mouthful of alcohol. The butterfly turns like its looking up at me. 

 

_Keep waving at the taxis._

 

_They keep turning the lights off._

 

“I’m so wiped out from last night.” I can hear you, Chloe. It's like you’re right next to me. “But it was awesome.”

 

I swallow another handful of pills. Things are starting to get fuzzy now. 

 

_But Julie knows a party at some actor's West Side loft._

 

I can see you, Chloe. I can feel you. I can just feel you right next to me. I down every last pill I have. Everything I could afford. I chase it with the rest of the bottle. The butterfly floats down onto my hand. 

 

_Supplies are endless in the evening,_

 

_By the morning they'll be gone_

 

My eyes are heavy now. So heavy. I can barely look at the picture. It's moving so wildly in the frame. It's almost like a movie. Everything else but the picture is a blurry. Even the butterfly is just a blue blob moving up my hand around the top of the picture.

 

“Photobomb!” I hear you shout.

 

“Photohog!” I hear myself giggle back.

 

My eyes finally close. I can feel everything falling away. I feel weightless, like a million pounds was just lifted from my shoulders. I open my eyes and you’re lying right next to me. My hand finds yours, and I hold on tight. “I love you, Chloe Price.”

 

**_~FIN~_ **


End file.
